Black Blood Stains
by mockinjay771995
Summary: Black blood stains, it stains the stone floor, it stains the hands and the sword. Of course there was no other choice, the battle had to be fought, the blood had to be spilt. But anyone walking into the nightblood's room would see a discolored patch on the stone floor. And when they inevitably ask questions the only answer they'll get is black blood stains. -Rewrite of the conclave
**I can** **'t believe they would kill off all the nightbloods, especially in such a casual way, and without giving them the slightest chance. So I wrote something that I hope isn't nearly as depressing as that episode. Also just as a quick note, Lexa is alive but seriously injured from the bullet. (Because her death tore me up possibly even worse.)**

Aden's POV

It felt extremely late. An absolute darkness had settled over the room and my fellow nightbloods had long since given up conversation for sleep. Their soft whispering replaced by light breathing and snores. I felt I would give anything to join them in a peaceful sleep, unhampered by thoughts heavier than an old iron spear.

That bullet had been close. Too close. I had heard healers telling Wanhe- _Clarke,_ Heda's survival of the bullet had been miraculous. It was miraculous that our Heda was alive.

Miraculous that for another day at least I wouldn't be forced to fight children I had grown up with to the death.

The very thought that that day had been, according to the healers, a mere inch from coming weighed heavy on my chest. Heda wished for me to become Commander, she wished for me to participate in the Conclave and win. I wanted to do as she wished, I wanted to make her proud. But I tried not to so much as bruise the other nightbloods during training, I'm sure it would kill _me_ to land a fatal blow on any of my pseudo brothers and sisters.

Unbidden came the image of small Mtomo, he was so young. Barely six summers old. He had only been in Polis a month, and despite his eagerness to learn he could hardly tell hilt from blade of his sword. He would be slaughtered by the Conclave. He would be targeted and killed minutes into the fight. Whether it be out of mercy or out of a blood lust that I can't pretend not to have noticed in some of my comrades.

The heavy wooden door creaked open, cutting through my thoughts as effectively as a newly sharpened blade. Light from the hall spilled into the room, silhouetting in the doorway a figure bent nearly double, trying not to be seen. For a second I wondered if this was someone who had simply managed to sneak by me and downstairs to steal some food, which was a nighttime custom for most. But as the figure straightened up I saw that they were definitely taller than any of the nightbloods. I also couldn't miss the unmistakable glint of light reflecting off a polished sword at the intruder's hip.

I sat up as she crept passed, by now I could tell she was a girl, she walked with the distinctive foot steps of someone who's been trained, quick and soft, not making a sound. I reached blindly around me for anything I could use as a makeshift weapon. My hand finally closed around the brass stem of a candle holder, I couldn't help but smile at Heda's obsession with candles finally being put to good use.

I slid out of bed, and matched the girl's tracks, barely an entire step behind, illuminated by a sliver of light still seeping in from the hall.

I stalked her every movement as she made her way slowly to the closest bed. The bed that happened to belong to Mtomo. She stopped abruptly about a foot from the bed, and she reached for her sword and unsheathed it in one fluid motion. I was finally convinced of the danger she posed to us all. I raised the candleabra like a club and brought it swinging down towards my best guess at the crown of her head. The girl stumbled and swore in Azgedian. I took advantage of her momentary disorientation by swinging my weapon at her hand this time, causing her sword to skid several feet away into the darkness.

I knew who it was even before she spun wildly around, her dark eyes narrowing maliciously as she saw me. " _I should've known."_ She hissed, with a smirk.

" _Leave Ontari, there's nothing here for you."_ She stepped closer, a sneer on her face. This time she hissed in english, inches from my face. "As long as you and all these other weaklings are still alive, still pining for the throne, then I will never leave." I heard shuffling in the darkness, some of the others were waking up. Ontari turned her head towards the noise, I quickly took a few steps back, in what I hoped was the general direction of my sword.

Ontari turned back to face me at the sound of my retreat. "Are you running, brave little nightblood? Are you scared?" She actually laughed, and stepped closer to me again. I continued to back up, sweeping my hand behind me for any sign of my sword. "Heda's alive Ontari. There's no conclave to fight, no throne to fight for. This would be murder. Punished by a thousand cuts if you go through with it."

"If?!" She barked. Her eyes wide and crazy. "If?! I will slaughter everyone in this room!" She yelled the last part, her every syllable reverberating back off the stone walls. I heard several of the others waking up, Ontari didn't seem to hear them, instead she pulled a dagger from her hip and she lunged at me. At that moment my hand brushed the hilt of my sword, reacting as quickly as I could, I gripped my sword and swung it around towards the much older _Natblida._

But Ontari had been trained just like the rest of us, and she had been trained well. She easily dodged my attack, and my momentum carried me off balance. Ontari swung her dagger at my head, I ducked but she kicked at my leg and knocked my to the ground.

I recovered quickly enough to get a good stab at her knee. She yelled in pain and outrage while I got quickly to my feet. "Stay back!" I yelled quickly at Mtomo who was trying to get in the fight completely unarmed.

"Someone get help!" I heard one of the younger girls yell.

"NO!" For a second even Ontari looked shocked. Then her expression was a mask of anger again. "No," I repeated calmer now. "I've got her. Just stay back." I looked directly into Ontari's eyes, and I saw an excitement for blood.

"You think you're destined to be Heda, Ontari? Prove it. We'll fight, just you and me." Her confidence never faulted, and her eyes only glanced away from mine long enough to throw a lazy glance at Mtomo.

"I'll need my sword for it to be a fair fight." She told him, Mtomo looked at me for confirmation. I nodded and he tossed Ontari her sword.

"Ready to die _Natblida_." She hissed.

 _No,_ I thought fiercely _No one's dying today._

With a sharp battle cry she launched forward swinging her sword which screamed through solid air when I back stepped to avoid it. I watched her as closely as I could in the dim light. I dodged and parried everyone of her attacks, desperate to find some weakness to use to my advantage. With every swing of her sword we slowly made our way closer and closer to the others, where they watched in mixed fear and awe.

I made my first offensive strike after I nearly knocked her sword out of her hands. As she tried to recover her grip on her weapon I thrust my sword forward, creating a wound in her side that instantly bled profusely.

She yelled loudly in Azgedian, I didn't know what the phrase meant, but I knew it was a particularly harsh curse. "You'll pay for that." She hissed, and she resumed her attack with vigor. For several long minutes the fight continued. The sound of metal on metal rang through the room like thunder and I was sure the entire tower would be woken up. But no one came to investigate.

I lost track of singular blows, leaving the fight in the hands of the battle instincts Heda's training had ingrained into each of us.

Onatari's blade made contact alarmingly close to the hilt of my sword, with a skillful twist she disarmed me. My sword clattered onto the floor and skidded several feet away, diving for it would leave me completely exposed, and trying to fight her without a weapon was suicide.

Before I could make a decision she brought her sword up over her head and I knew it was over. My heart pounded at the thought that the second I fell she'd turn on all the others and slaughter them one by one. But instead of her blade she brought the blunt end of the sword down onto my chest, effectively knocking me to the ground and forcing the breath from my lungs. I was almost more dazed by her not killing me than by the attack itself. Though I still couldn't force a breath in. She stepped around me and poised the blade over my throat.

"It seems your Heda has failed you." She said to the room at large. I could hear the triumphant smirk in her voice. "The 'Most Promising _Natblida'_ will die at my feet, begging for mercy." She turned to look me in the eyes, a horrible smile twisting the scars on her face. "Go on," She cooed, placing the tip of her sword on my throat. "Beg. And maybe I'll kill you last."

In a rush of desperation and adrenaline an idea flashed through my mind, along with a phrase Clarke was especially fond of using. "Fuck off Onatri." I hissed, before aiming the strongest kick I could muster at her wounded knee.

She stumbled back and shrieked a series of threats and curses, but I heard none of it. I lunged for my sword and when I felt the familiar object in my hand I turned on the spot, swinging it in a wide arc.

My sword stopped abruptly, and with a sickening sound.

Blood darker than a pauna's fur flowed like a river down my blade and stained onto my hands.

Ontari's face was frozen in curiously blank expression.

My sword had cut into her side again, this time not stopping until it had lodged into her abdomen. I let go of my sword with shaky hands and Ontari slumped to the ground, blood slowly pooling out around her.

I don't remember anyone leaving to go get help, maybe no actually did. Maybe they were on their way and just arrived to late to break up the fight.

I don't remember who was even part of the group that flooded into the room.

The heavy door banging open was nothing more than a distant echo in my mind, the enraged accusations of murder from the Azgedian ambassadors and guards fell onto my deaf ears. All I could focus on was the body laying on the floor, blood soaked through her clothes. Her sword laying a few feet on her right while mine protruded from her midsection. The sight made me want to vomit. I didn't quite understand. I'd been in battle before, I had killed, and they had haunted me. But it never hit me instantaneously like this.

I felt someone's hand on my shoulder, gently leading me from the room. I turned to look at Ontari for the last time, her eyes were already clouded over, and I felt for the rest of my life I'd never get her accusing gaze out of my head.

Then I saw all the younger nightbloods. Some looked shocked, others relived, and some like Mtomo looked outright confused and scared.

 _Ontari would've killed them all._ I reminded myself harshly. With the comforting thought that I had done what I had to do, I tore my gaze away from them all and allowed myself to be lead from the room.

 **I know it's kinda late to be posting something like this. But I've been working on it at odd moments since the air of that frickin episode. Originally I wasn't going to post it but I figured I'd share it with other people who also want to pretend the last few episodes never happened. So hear ya go! It's really just a one-shot but if anyone wants me to add a few more chapters I will.**

 **May the odds be ever in your favor**

 **-Mockingjay**


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